


Echo

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Asmo and Luci Are Good Demons, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral Reader/MC, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Nightmares, Other, Vague depictions of violence, no one is hurt MC just has a bad dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25582846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: MC struggles with more of Lilith's memories, and Asmo and Lucifer comfort their human
Relationships: Asmodeus & Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 218





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this but!!!! Warning for talk of blood/Asmo being injured!!! its not happening in fic, as it is a memory, but nevertheless! 
> 
> Stay safe!

There is a part of you that isn't _you._ A part that fills your dreams with six winged Lucifers and pure white hallways with gauzy curtains and a sun that never hides. 

A part that simultaneously makes you feel warm and loved and happy and _absolutely fucking terrified._

There's blood that reflects like a prism and feathers torn from their roots. Blades and offensive magic are constantly clashing, and you don't know where to look-- _oh, Father, why--_ there are so many injured, and you only have so much left to give. You lost track of Lucifer ages ago, but really it's Asmodeus you should be worried about because _oh, God, no!_

You don't move, but you're next to him now, and he's clutching at your forearms as you try to heal the wound in his side. It's _deep_ , and there's so much blood, and-- 

You wake up crying. 

The you-that-isn't forces you to your feet, every cell, every atom screaming that you _need_ to check on him ( _oh God, oh no_ ).

The halls of the House of Lamentation are winding and confusing for _her,_ but you know them like the back of your hand. Asmo's room isn't nearly as close to kitchen as yours is, and it's noticeably colder. It's nice on your sweat slicked skin, although you can't really appreciate it with _Asmodeus, Asmodeus, Asmodeus_ running on repeat in your head. 

It's not you but _her_ who knocks on the door with enough force to rattle it, and the pain is shoved back for later. Likely bruised knuckles aren't important when he was _bleeding_ and his wings were bent and-- his wings were. Feathered. 

Huh. 

There's no time to examine that memory, because the door is flung open with a flourish (that only Asmo aspires to at this time of night, really). 

"Wh--" Asmo stops. "Sweetheart?" 

You-and-her throw your arms around him, whatever semblance of control you reclaimed on the trip over vanishing. You're crying again, the kind that makes it hard to breathe or speak or _think._

_He's safe, he's safe, he's_ **_safe_** **.**

Asmo wraps his arms around you, presumably to hold you _and_ to simply keep you upright. He's saying something-- comforting you, maybe-- but you can't hear it over _her_. 

_Safe, safe, safe, safe_. She repeats it so much it doesn't feel like a word anymore, and one of your hands move to where you remember the wound being. He's wearing something half see-through, making it easy to map out the lack of scar tissue. 

Asmo's frantic attempts to comfort you cut off, and you manage to say, "Y-you were injured. I-- you were _bleeding_ , Asmo, I remember it." 

"Oh," Asmo inhales sharply. 

"Are you _okay_?" You mean for it to be a demand, but it comes out as a whine. "Asmodeus?" 

"I'm okay now." He answers softly. "You healed me, remember?" 

You don't, not that part, but he wouldn't lie about something like that. "I healed you." You agree, pressing closer to his chest. Your knees are starting to hurt and-- when did you fall? 

Neither you nor her know the answer to that one, but Asmo is petting your hair and it's nice. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, your voice somewhat normal for the first time. 

Asmo nods. "Better than okay! I'm perfect!" 

At the very least, the smile he gifts you with _is_ perfect. You- _not-her_ , _you_ have the sudden urge to kiss him. 

Asmo takes a hand off your waist in order to wipe your cheeks, tutting, "You're a mess, little human. Did you forget you had makeup on yesterday?" 

...Maybe _later,_ you'll kiss him. 

It's probably for the best, anyways. You're floating in that post-cry haze, and smooching any of your demons is something that should be fully appreciated. 

"You're going to give yourself dark circles," Asmo chides, running his thumb over the top of your cheek. He doesn't stray too close to your eyes, apparently afraid of damaging the sensitive skin. They _are_ wildly strong, compared to yourself. Even the "weak" seventh born. 

Asmo continues chattering about how important skin care is (you don't judge his weird way of coping, of filling in the silence) while you try to reason with the rapidly fading part of you that's still terrified. She'll go back into hibernation eventually. 

_Not_ before Lucifer appears though. 

Is it her affection or yours that makes the anxious knot in your chest dissipate the moment you hear his voice ask, "What _are_ you doing?" 

The eldest demon is half asleep, his hair messy and eyes lacking their laser point focus. Despite that, the annoyed edge in his voice is enough to have Asmo protectively tightening his hold on you. 

When Asmo doesn't explain, you say, "I had a nightmare." 

There's something special about Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, immediately dropping down on his knees to join you and his little brother on the floor just because you're _sad_. 

"I see." He does the same thing Asmo did, trying to wipe your seemingly never ending tears away. "You thought outside Asmo's bedroom was a good place to…" 

"Comfort our human?" Asmo suggests. 

Luci nods. "Comfort our human." 

You lean towards Lucifer without letting go of Asmo. As awkward a motion it is, you can't just stamp down the part of you that's demanding you keep Asmo nearby. "I-- Lilith. Still remembers the Celestial War. That time Asmodeus got stabbed." 

(For you, Asmo sounds more natural. For _her_ , it's Asmodeus) 

Lucifer inhales sharply. "I… I didn't realize." He's clearly struggling for words, something that would usually be quite amusing. 

Asmo presses your hand more firmly against his side, reminding, "I'm okay now, remember?" 

"Mhm." Even such a simple response comes out high, broken. "You're okay." 

Something fluffy settles over your shoulders, and you realize it's _wings_ a moment later. 

Lucifer's true form has never been a particularly comforting sight for you. But rather than angry and betrayed, this time he looks… scared. 

"I didn't realize…" he repeats softly. "It must be difficult to process things you don't fully understand." 

In another context, that might come across as condescending, but you know him. He's trying. 

"It's… not great." You admit. "Usually it's just confusing, not-- upsetting." Horrifying. Wretched. 

You glance down at Asmo's not-wound, just in case. 

Asmo cups your cheek, tilting your face towards him again. "How long have you dealt with this, darling?" 

You purse your lips in thought. "I think. She told me I had to help Belphie, and I-- heard her? Hear her? Sometimes. But the first time I had an actual flashback or whatever was when she died." 

Asmo's sharp gasp is felt more than heard. "Y-you actually remember _dying_?" 

"Unfortunately." You nod, adding, "Maybe we can talk about this in the morning? I want cuddles and sleep." 

While usually Asmo would jump at the chance to get you in bed, he looks to Lucifer. 

Luce glances between the two of you, tiredly taking stock of Asmo's pout and the way you're (still) clutching his nightshirt. He sighs. "We can share." 

You wonder if he means share the bed or share the human, but you suppose it doesn't matter. Asmo helps you to your feet, giggling when you nearly trip. 

"My leg fell asleep." You shake out said leg, wincing. 

Asmo still looks… rough, but hearing you whine about a relatively minor pain makes him laugh. "You poor thing. Do you want me to carry you to bed?" 

Lucifer scoops you up before either of you can react, now back in his usual form. "Asmodeus." 

"Ehhh? I wanna be--" 

" _Asmo_." Lucifer interrupts. 

The fifth born huffs. He doesn't look genuinely upset though, and he smiles when you reach for his hand. It's an awkward position, holding his hand while Lucifer carries you, but neither demon seems to mind. 

Lucifer sets you down on his own oversized bed before laying next to you. He's not a touchy-feely demon, generally, but he cuddles up if you make the first move. So maybe it's that he _is_ a touchy-feely demon, and his pride prevents him from acting on his impulses. 

On your other side, Asmo throws himself across the bed spread eagle before sighing and curling in closer. You understand. It's no fun having a big ole bed by yourself. 

It takes a bit of maneuvering for everyone to get comfy, but the end result, with you squished between two of your favorite demons, is well worth it. 

"Good night." You mumble, your face pressed against Lucifer's side. He's not _warm_ -warm like Mammon and Beel, but he's not cold like Leviathan either. He's… comfortable. 

Asmo kisses the closest bit of skin he can find, responding, "Good night, darling." 

"Rest." Lucifer says it like an order, like he's assigning your newest Task. Thankfully, this is one you're only too happy to complete. 


	2. Chapter 2

"You ever sometimes wonder if Mammon is the most decent of all of us?" 

You glance over at Satan curiously. The "decent demon" in question is fast asleep in your lap, exhausted after the witches ran him ragged with their ridiculous orders. He'd been here first, and Satan agreed to keep his voice down ( _ after _ he threw your bedroom door open in excitement). 

"...what?" You ask slowly, unsure what prompted this. 

"We--  _ I _ call him the scum of the family, but… he's never tried to hurt you. I can't even remember him trying to hurt one of us." 

You agree that he's not at all as scummy as they make him out to be, but you do remember a very angry Leviathan telling you about how fast Mammon is. "Didn't he knock Levi unconscious?" 

Satan rolls his eyes, "Levi started it, and he could've-- Lucifer would've done  _ much worse,  _ for much less." 

You purse your lips and glance down at Mammon. His face is all but buried in your shirt, and his silvery white hair is even messier than usual, but he's relaxed. Soft. "Do you wanna know what I think?" 

"You have a theory." Satan guesses. 

"Mammon looks the most like her." 

Satan pauses, long enough that you look up again to check. His eyes are narrowed, but not in anger. 

"How do you know what she looked like?" He finally asks. "We don't have her picture in the portrait hall." 

"I had a… you know how I have visions, or dreams, or whatever? Asmo was painting his face the other day, but it wasn't… our Asmo in the mirror. It was Asmodeus the angel. And I was Lilith." 

Lilith, whose hair was wild and platinum, whose sunkissed skin was dotted with freckles, whose eyes were blue and green and gold. 

"I think the others, at least, lash out at Mammon because he reminds them of her, and they don't know how to cope." It's not an excuse, and seeing Mammon bullied by his brothers causes you visceral pain, but it  _ makes sense _ . 

And he lets them. 

He  _ could  _ assert himself the way Lucifer does, through violence, but he just… doesn't. He's too tender-hearted for that. He loves his brothers. 

Your heart twists uncomfortably, and you have to stomp down the sudden need to spoil him with affection. He deserves it, but he also deserves sleep. 

Satan seems unwilling to confirm or deny your theory at the moment, so it doesn't surprise you when he changes the subject a little. "You love him." He says, matter of fact. 

"I do. Very much." You reach down to pet him, running your fingers over where his horns would be. Even in his sleep, he leans into your touch. "I love you too, Satan." 

"Is it different?" 

You raise your eyebrows in question. "Is what different?" 

"The-- you loved Mammon and the others," he struggles with how to word it, his voice slowing down, "when you were Lilith?" 

"Sort of. She's a part of me, but I wasn't  _ her. _ I just--  _ some  _ of her memories are mine, if that makes sense?" It's hard to explain, especially when you yourself aren't quite sure what's going on. 

Diavolo says it's  _ angel magic _ , but when you asked if you could talk to Simeon about it, you were immediately vetoed. Can't have him running home to Michael armed with what might be the best kept secret of the Devildom. 

"Not really." Satan leans into his palm, face pinched in annoyance. 

"But. Yeah, I guess. It is a little different, because I know that my feelings for you are one hundred percent  _ mine _ ." 

With a few of the others, namely Lucifer and Belphie, you don't know if it's  _ you _ that loves them, or her. Because  _ you _ still remember Belphie's hands around your throat, and Lucifer holding you up in the air by the front of your shirt. You remember fear. Betrayal. 

But  _ she  _ remembers playing hide and seek and Belphegor's eyes sparkling as he talks about humans, and she remembers Lucifer kissing her forehead and letting her shyly duck behind his wings. She remembers comfort. Home. 

Satan nudges your back, startling you out of your thoughts. "Move." 

"How? Mammon is--" 

"Move forward a little. He won't mind." 

Grumbling, you try to scooch forward without disrupting Mammon too much. Satan settles into the vacated space, and it takes some maneuvering, but you end up between his legs, leaning against his chest, with Mammon still comfortably within your lap. 

"Good?" Satan asks. 

It doesn't take a genius to know the sudden desire to cuddle was for your benefit, and you simply reply, "Thank you." 

"What am I going to do with you?" He laughs, grabbing your forgotten book. "Our soft-hearted human." 

You roll your eyes, reminding him once again, "I love you." 

"Love you too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Mammon sm 💛💛💛 
> 
> I'm not sure if this chapter/scene has the same Vibe as the previous one but I was inspired by Satan's homescreen dialog and the v v sweet comments I got akdnjdkand im sorry I haven't responded yet I just get flustered 
> 
> Next scene: twin time!! then Levi, and Mammon again bc he's asleep here 
> 
> Hope y'all are having a good day!!


	3. Chapter 3

Belphie's tail is softer than any of his blankets. It's wrapped around your waist, and you idly card your fingers through it as the demon it's attached to continues gaming. 

He's not like Levi, with constant commentary, theories, and questions. He's quiet, concentrated. He only asks questions when he's stuck, or particularly confused about something. 

Not to say that it's  _ totally  _ quiet, seeing as Beel is snacking. The larger demon is also in his natural form, although you don't know why. Could be a twin thing. Belphie seems to prefer his true form, and you figure it's because maintaining the illusion takes up too much energy. 

Regardless of why, you've seen a lot more of Belphegor's true form than his brothers', and you find yourself staring at Beel's insectoid wings. They're… surprisingly delicate looking, and they twitch at the slightest movement. 

You blink, and they're feathered. Muted grey, like a pigeon. 

Another second, and they're back to normal. 

... _ huh.  _

"You're staring." Belphegor says, bringing you back to the present. "Is watching Beel eat so interesting?" 

"It's--" you hesitate, looking down at your hands, his tail. If it were Lucifer or Asmo, both of whom you know are sensitive about their wings, you couldn't get the words out, but it's  _ Beel _ and  _ Belphie _ . "What happened? To your feathers?" 

Beel chokes on his mouthful of chips. "W-what?" 

Belphie seems less taken off guard by this line of questioning, but he does look curious. He even pauses his game to say, "Mine didn't survive the fall. Can't say I really miss 'em though. Flying is a lot of work." 

"I lost mine too, but they grew back. Sort of." Beel stretches his wings out reflexively. 

"It was gross. Like molting, but--" 

"Hey." Beel protests. 

You giggle at their ridiculousness. "Don't tease your twin." You say, elbowing him. It probably hurts you more than it hurts him. Fuckin demons and their demonic strength. 

"If you meant that it would've been an order, my  _ dear _ pact-keeper." Belphie laughs. "Why're you asking about our wings anyways?" 

"I…" You sigh. "I lost mine too, I think." Your memories of  _ that day _ focus on Lucifer for the most part, but you remember how much it hurt to move, how your clothes were stuck to your skin, tacky with half dried blood. How Diavolo, who  _ you  _ know as warm and welcoming, looked at Lilith like she was a particularly interesting insect rather than a dying angel. 

Beel brings you back from the memories with a tight hug. He has to lean over his twin to reach you, but Belphie doesn't seem to mind. 

You hug him back with a laugh, "Beel?" 

"You looked sad." He says. 

"I--" you exhale dramatically. "I'm okay.  _ I  _ never really had wings in the first place." 

Belphie's tail shifts listlessly, the longer fur tickling you. "'s’okay if you're not. Lucifer and Asmo told us about the nightmares." 

_ Of course they did. _ You expected them to tell everyone, but you'll be sure to scold them for not  _ asking _ first anyways. 

"If you want to talk about it…" Beel says slowly, like he isn't sure how to word it. 

You press your forehead against his shoulder. "...sometimes it's just little flashes, like Beel's feathers. Sometimes it's like… I can hear her." 

"Like when you said Lilith told you about the deal?" Belphie asks, his voice surprisingly gentle. He, in particular, gets either anxious and angry when Lilith is mentioned. It seems like this time he's leaning towards anxious. 

"Yeah." You reach out for him, and Beel follows. The cowboy demon laughs as you and his twin both make a valiant attempt to fit in his lap.  _ You _ fit fine, but Beel is  _ much _ too big. Still, he throws his legs over yours and wraps an arm around Belphie's shoulders. 

"This would be a lot comfier in bed. Or on a couch." Belphie says. Despite his dry criticism, he doesn't seem to mind. 

"You're fine." Beel responds.

"We'll cuddle properly later." You lean over to kiss his cheek, relishing in the blush that follows. It's harder to get a rise out of Belphie than most of his brothers, so when you do, you want to commit it to memory. 

_ This time  _ though, you don't get much of a chance to make doe eyes at Belphie, because Beel is immediately whining for his own kisses. 

"Isn't Mammon supposed to be the greedy one?" You tease, pressing your lips to his cheek, his forehead, the tip of his nose. 

"He's hungry for affection." Belphie says, the edge in his voice softened by his smile. 

"Shut up." Beel tells both of you, his blush darkening. You wonder if you can tease him enough to get him to blush like Leviathan does, covering his whole face and down his neck. 

Before you get the chance, Beel catches you completely off guard with, "I can take you flying. If you miss it." 

_ Oh.  _

Lilith is not  _ with you _ right now, like she sometimes is, but you feel her in your chest. You-and-her are-- are  _ so happy. _

"Yes, yes, yes, totally, Beel!" You exclaim, "You're the best!" 

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't throw words like that around, but Belphie doesn't mind. Not when it's Beel being called the best.  _ Certainly  _ not when you're in his lap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not at all related to this chapter but [my beta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcfuck/pseuds/mcfuck) thought it was funny 
> 
> Asmo, an emotional drunk: they used to call me the jewel of heaven   
> MC, a talkative no filter drunk: they used to call amelia earhart the babe of the sky. she got eaten by coconut crabs   
> Asmo: :(((((((


	4. Chapter 4

It figures that after Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos keep the Lilith Secret for thousands of years, you fuck it up within six months, in what may be the most anticlimactic fashion ever. 

It started with an offer to hang out with your two favorite angels. Simeon was the one to make the suggestion, but Luke planned it and insisted on telling every prince of hell that he came across they aren't allowed to "steal" you. Your demons (mostly) seemed either amused or vaguely annoyed, but none of them protested. 

Luke even went out of his way to get you your own apron. It's sleek blue and white lined with gold, and it doesn't take a genius to realize the resemblance to Simeon's usual outfit is purposeful. 

It's cute though. You like his none-too-subtle way of saying you're part of their little angelic family too. 

Simeon seems to think it's cute as well, given how his eyes widened when he saw you. 

Now, Simeon is perched on the counter, humming something that makes her rise to the surface as you mindlessly continue making sugar flowers. It's meticulous work, to be sure, but it doesn't require that much thought. 

Which is good because you're not quite you, at the moment. 

It's her that joins in with Simeon's song, and it's her that begins sprinkling in the lyrics that feel liquidy and strange in your mouth. 

Celestial, she says. Annoyance that's not your own curls up in your chest as you stumble over a word, which is silly, really, because you… you don't speak Celestial. 

Oh. 

You stop. 

Luke and Simeon are both staring at you. Simeon, confused and thoughtful while Luke has that starry eyed look of his. 

"You can speak Celestial?" Luke asks, abandoning his frosting work to grab your hands. "Who taught you? Was it Lucifer?" 

"I…" even the combined you-and-her don't know quite how to explain. "I just remember that song." And a dance that goes along with it, although not-you was very small when you learned it, and you… can't remember which of the brothers (who are not your brothers, gross) was teaching you. 

Luke, in all the time you've known him, has never been one to shy away from demanding answers. So it's a shock when his voice comes out soft and hesitant, "You remember a song from Heaven?" 

"I…" You break off, and she continues, "Will you sing with me?" 

Luke's face sours before he registers the second part and he says, "Yes." 

It's strange, to take a backseat in your own body, but she is the one who smiles at Luke and begins the song again, and you are the one observing. 

(It's strange for her too. Your body is too soft, too quick to bruise, and the lack of wings is disconcerting. She doesn't know how you balance without them) 

You don't know what the words spilling out of your mouth mean, but Luke's smile makes you happy. Makes Lilith happy. 

Simeon joins back in after the second chorus, and you know later there'll be questions upon questions, but for now you-and-her can have fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: okay we're gonna write Levi and Mammon's chapter   
> my motivation: It's Angel Time

**Author's Note:**

> I think abt MC being haunted by Lilith n her memories, and how MC has both seen themself die & felt Lilith die, a lot. the poor thing has gotta have some Feelings abt it that aren't properly addressed in game 
> 
> anyways. hope y'all are doing well! I'm officially taking requests for obey me now, so if you've got a suggestion hmu!! 
> 
> Beta'd my my friend mcfuck here on ao3 💕💕


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